


Lull me back to sleep

by nupoxsi



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Feelings, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are locked in the railroad car. Carl has an awful nightmare. Rick only wishes he could do anything to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lull me back to sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [take_a_bow06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/take_a_bow06/gifts).



> This goes for my dear Valen. After we rewatched _“A”_ together, I know for certain her feelings about this ship are true and pure. This is a “thank you for coping with my feels” gift work. Sort of _“tengo que cuidar a mi chamo,”_ feels. Ah, man, I just love you.
> 
>  **Warning:** this does not contain incest, only Rick/Carl feels, but it does contain some post attempted rape nightmares. Nothing explicit, but please do read this warning for there might be rape triggers in this work.

Abruptly, Carl wakes up from one of the most vivid and horrid dreams he’d ever had, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he has to try his best to keep his muscles from shaking.

Despite the heavy silence inside the railroad car, he’s quite certain only a few of the people inside are asleep. Everyone has been on their nerves and trying to come up with a plan ever since they stepped inside. A part of Carl was plenty relieved the moment he was able to go inside and join the rest of them, mostly because Daryl, Michonne and Rick were there. Rick, especially Rick. Carl’s arms hand been tight around Rick’s torso as they hugged for a only brief moment before his father decided to join Glenn and the others to get full information of everything that had happened.

Then, after a couple of hours —the time Carl estimates passed by—, the Grimes claimed one of the corners of the railroad car for themselves and decided to try and get some sleep. Carl opted for taking the space between his father and the corner, feeling, in a way, calmer. The decision was quite silly, yes, but it was better than feeling completely exposed by laying at the other side. Besides, Rick was next to him, which played a huge factor on whether he felt safer or not. Their intentions were to rest, but as soon as his head hit the cold ground, Carl knew his father wasn’t about to fall asleep anytime soon, hence the sitting position he adopted. However, Carl was wary himself, so he put up no fight when Rick told him to sleep.

It took him a while for sleep to claim him, but the tiredness eventually took over his energies, and Carl immediately fell asleep. The whole atmosphere in the dream was quite familiar, a bright, green grass beneath his brown boots that faintly had a mint scent, and a dusty path that never seemed to end. He’d had that dream multiple times, and in those dreams all he does is walk aimlessly, hoping that someday he’ll find something at the end of the road.

Sadly, that night the dream of walking an endless path on a lonely hill morphed into what was one of the worst nightmares he’s ever had. The very same man who had him pinned to the dusty road days from now was in in his dream, stealthily following him. No matter how many times Carl looked back, hoping, praying for the man to be gone, he was there. As Carl ran down the path, the man ran behind him, closing the distance with long steps.

In the dream he was awfully sweating and his pulse racing, mostly because he didn’t carry any kind of weapons on him. All he could do was run with all the strength he had, and so he did, until the man was bringing him down to the ground. Somehow they ended up falling onto the grass, but it had turned into pavement, and Carl could feel his cheek crashing against it as the man’s hands started to run down his spine. It was exactly as that night, yet there was no one in that side of the road but them.

On the bright side —if that could ever be considered a bright side— he awoke the second the old man started to pull down his pants. His greasy hands might have felt real, but Carl keeps telling to himself they weren’t. _Just a dream, it was just a dream_ , are the words he repeat inside his head over and over again, closing his eyes shut as he does his best to even his breathing.

What hurt the most was that, in the dream, Rick wasn’t there to help him, he was nowhere to be found, Carl found himself completely alone. Laying awake and being haunted by those memories sickens him to the point he actually has to concentrate to keep the bile from rising up his throat as he briefly brushes a side of his hip, fingertips running over the flesh under his hoodie, the very same spot the old and fat man had gripped nights ago.

Carl feels too sick. He shakes his head repeatedly as if to shake those thoughts away.

_Just a dream._

“Dad?” he calls in a barely audible voice.

His first instinct is, of course, to reach for Rick at his side, in part because he needs to remind himself they are still together. But, unexpectedly, the bony wrist under his fingers isn’t Rick’s. It’s way too small and hairless compared to his father’s, and a hint of desperation rises from his insides.

“No, it’s Michonne.” Her voice is steady, which indicates she hasn’t slept, and soon her fingers caress his left shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replies too quickly. “It's okay, I just…where is he?”

Michonne sighs softly, brushing some strands of hair off Carl’s forehead. “Sleeping. I told him I’d watch over you if he get some sleep.”

In no time Carl is already sitting up, trying to shake away the memory with all of his will. Swiftly, and once his eyes adapt to the blackness of the place, Carl tries to spot Rick from all the bodies in sight, and he’s amazed by how quickly he achieves it. His father is a few feets away from him, and thankfully no one is gathered at either of his sides.

“Thanks, I just- I need to…”

His voice fades, mostly because he knows she’ll understand the needs to look for his father, or at least Carl thinks she will. In all honestly, he doesn’t really care, his heart is pumping too fast inside his ribcage and the uneasy feeling overtakes his body as he clumsily gets on his feet. Carl tries not to make much noise as he walks towards his father, who’s resting against one of the railroad car’s walls, eyes closed and mouth partially opened.

If certainly Carl’s intentions aren’t to wake him, he needs to hear his father’s voice, he needs his arms passed around his shoulders, he needs Rick. So he drops to his knees beside Rick, and one of his hands nudges his upper arm, slender fingers brushing the blood-stained jacket.

“Dad?” His voice again is nothing but a quiet whisper, yet it does bring Rick back from his dreamland.

Rick is clearly alarmed as their eyes look together. Carl wonders if he’s even able to detail Carl’s face in the darkness, but if he had to judge by the way Rick’s hand is suddenly grabbing his arm, Carl would say he can.

“Carl?” Rick’s face turns into a concerned frown. “What happened?”

He opens his mouth, preparing the words he wants to use. Involuntarily, Carl’s bottom lip trembles as a flash of images play on the back of his mind. The man harshly making him go out of the car as he struggles to break free from his grip, all of his weak attempts to punch him or kick him, his body on the cold pavement as the fat man starts to pull down his pants. A wave of nausea assails him, and then he feels there’s no time to reply.

In a poor attempt to keep quiet, Carl throws himself at Rick, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. They’re both covered in sweat, but little does Carl care, all he wants to do is push the thoughts away. Rick is whispering small ‘ _hey, hey, hey’_ s into his ear as his arms loop around his torso, soothing hands keeping him in place.

“Are you okay?”

Carl doesn’t know what to reply. Is he okay? He’s not physically harmed, only the brush on his cheek and the one on his hip, but he’s had worse. Everyone inside the railroad car has had worse. Yet if Carl lets his mind wander around freely whenever he closes his eyes for too long, the ghost of the man’s hands are still on his body, the faint sound of his horrid laughter still echoing in the back of his mind.

“I don’t know,” he replies frankly. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

But Carl does. He suddenly feels so small in his father’s arms, and he cannot help but admitting the truth in a soft voice, only for Rick’s ears to hear. “I had a nightmare. I— he was there, chasing me, you weren’t there, I completely was alone, and I—”

His voice immediately breaks, no sound coming from his mouth. He doesn’t need to specify whom is he talking about, judging by the way Rick shushes him softly as he tries to keep himself together. Frankly, Carl doesn’t feel like crying, not now, but he does feel quite frightened and vulnerable at the memories, which also makes him feel, in part, useless. Were they all to escape in that very moment, he’d probably get left behind if it weren’t for his father.

“I’m sorry.”

“Carl.” Rick’s tone is calm, and he doesn’t let go of Carl’s body as he speaks, comforting him in every possible way he can. “It’s not your fault, there’s nothin’ to be sorry for.”

Carl is meant to reply, but his breathing becomes uneven again, and so he keeps silent until his father speaks again.

“And yes, it was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real, but I know how scary things can get inside your head.” Carl tries to smile because Rick sounds sincere, even if he’s barely rising his voice at all. “I might’ve not been around in your dream, Carl, but you know that as long as I’m around, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“Yes.”

“I’m never going to leave you, Carl. I mean it.”

He knows that, he’s known that for a while now. Rick does mean the _whatever it takes_ part, he’s proven so, but Carl can’t help but imagine this might be the last time they’d be able to hug, so his hands clench into fist on his father’s clothes as he keeps him in place. Perhaps he’ll never be what Rick wants him to be, but he doesn’t want to loose Rick, not now, not _ever_.

“Now how ‘bout we get some sleep, huh?” Rick inquires, motioning Carl to lay down beside him. “We may still have a couple of hours before the sun comes up.”

Carl hesitates. A part of him remains tired from the long day they’d have, yet he doesn’t want to resume the dream he’s had, especially not in the part he left it. However, he tries to push all of those thoughts away, bury them somewhere deep down inside his brain, a place he never dares to visit, and lays face-to-face beside Rick. Maybe he should be surprised by a long arm dropping around his shoulders to pull him closer, but Carl is only content with it.

“You can sleep, Carl, nothing’s gonna happen to you. I’ll be right here.”

He nods, and lets himself be pulled closer, until his head is resting in Rick’s upper arm. Being in Rick’s embrace does make him feel protected, even given the circumstances they were on, he cold sweat on his back starts to vanish altogether, Rick’s warmth keeping him heated up.

“It’s gonna be alright,” his father whispers as he holds him close to his chest, rubbing small circles on his back. “We’ll be alright.”

The words soothe him somehow, even when deep down he knows how unreliable they might be. They’ve been through so much in such a short time, the majority of it being absolute crap, it’s impossible to foresee what is left to come. However, it’s his father, it’s the man who would give anything to keep him safe, it’s Rick, the one who promises him things will be okay.

After everything they’ve been through, all those ups and downs, Carl decides to hold onto that promise, to believe that at some point they will find a safe place, somewhere they will able to live. And in the meantime, he will try to keep Rick as close as he can, and not because he feels weak or vulnerable, but because every time his father’s life is at risk, Carl realises how much he needs him.

“I’m sorry,” Carl mumbles under his breath. “I shouldn’t be so stu—”

“Don’t.” Rick is harsh but soothing at the same time, and Carl is grateful for having them in that very moment. “You are the most important person in the world to me, always have been, always will be. And I’m proud of you.”

There’s a silent I love you in between those words, Carl is well aware of that. Deep down, his father’s words do make him feel better. He snuggles close to him, never minded the look other people might give at them whenever the realised the position they were in. Carl needed this comfort, this closeness, and perhaps Rick needed it as well.

In a tight embrace, familiar and warm, Carl starts to fall asleep, the faint sound of Rick’s breathing more effective that any music box he could ever have.

 


End file.
